


Emerald and Silver

by Polkat (aralias)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: April Showers 2015, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-08
Updated: 2003-10-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aralias/pseuds/Polkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flickering common rooms of green flames, school ties of emerald and silver and of course the Marauders as you've never seen them before. (Unfinished)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's not a

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading old fic for April Showers 2015. All spelling/grammar errors left as originally posted.
> 
> And obviously incomplete.

For as long as I can remember I've hated our common room, bloody freezing even in summer, even in summer with a fire burning, faintly ridiculous really. It's the walls that are the problem I reckon, hard, bare stone covered with flickering green light. I tried to stick Quidditch pictures up in my first year and then coming in the next day to find they had all been burned. Naturally I haven't tried that again, like everyone here I learned quickly enough that you're supposed to be proud to be Slytherin, proud to be able to wear a tie of emerald and silver, proud to have a common room that looks and smells like the potion's dungeon.

And in a way I am I guess.

When the Sorting Hat whispered into my ear that I'd do well in Slytherin I didn't tell it to sod off, that I belonged in Gryffindor or even more unthinkably Hufflepuff, all I could think was 'Great, I can be with Sirius.'

Sirius is one of things that makes being here bearable. I'm not sure but I think he likes it. Peter does too, you can tell when he whoops extra loudly when I make a great pass or when Sirius forces Snape to sing HMS Pinafore in falsetto. Sometimes I laugh too. Sometimes I'm the one torturing Severus; too much of the time it's my wand pointing at him, my lips curling into a sneer of triumph. Sometimes I hate myself for being who I am.

Not often though.

Not often enough.

_Why couldn't it have been bloody Gryffindor?_

Remus is the only one apart from myself who seems moderately unhappy with the way the situation played out, even Snape belongs here though he doesn't belong with us. Yer, Remus is very different. I remember thinking back in the first year when the hat called out Slytherin that it had made a terrible mistake in placing this small, blond boy in with the likes of Sirius Black and from Moony's expression as he sat down beside my best friend I could see that he felt it too but was too polite to say so. He hates the common room as well, told me so once, after I came in to find my picture of Laurence Beogr burning ominously [nothing burns merrily here] in the sparkling green flames that first Wednesday morning.

Yes, Remus is certainly different.  _Perfect Mr. Prefect_ Sirius calls him; mocks him. As if being a model student and not wanting to turn Snape's hair violet or make him tap dance across our breakfast table is a crime, or a character flaw. Sometimes I hate Sirius for being like me.

The chairs are all fairly vile too, all dark wood and plush green cushions, very old, very valuable, rather ugly and excessively uncomfortable. Pretty much describes my feelings towards our beloved house actually. Sometimes, like now, I wonder why I don't get up; taking the map and march into Dumbledore's office and demand I get another chance with the hat.

"What ya thinking about Jimbo?"

"Hullo Sirius."

But I know really.

The Marauders keep me here.

If they wanted to change houses then I'd move heaven and earth to bring that about but they don't. Not really. Remus might grumble a bit when he's in a bad mood [i.e. Full Moon Week, capitalization and all] but I know he rather enjoys being The Good One, enjoys the way he can shake his head and tell us afterwards that we were incredibly out of line.

"That's not an answer."

"No Padfoot, I know its not."

He sits down in front of my sofa and stares up at me with the puppy dog eyes he must have perfected around the age of two. "Sooooooooooo, what ya thinking Jimbo?"

"You asked me that already."

"But you didn't answer, so I asked again, figured you might have a hearing problem."

I grin. "No Sirius, I don't have a hearing problem. I'm thinking about" ok lying time, "what we can do for our next prank."

This is obviously the right answer because Sirius leaps to his feet and pulls me to mine. "Well that's very fortunate Mr Prongs because I happened to be thinking about exactly the same thing and I think I've got what might just turn out to be the best pranking idea ever."

 


	2. single witch or

I trail behind him towards the imaginatively named "Prank Making Table." I think we have Remus to blame for that one after Sirius' suggestion: "The Pranking Table" was deemed too suggestive and not  _quite_  Slytherin enough.

"Ok so what's the plan?"

"Right. We wait until Snivellus is about to go into his potions exam…"

"And…?"

"Turn his hair-"

"Pink?"

Sirius looks moderately put out. "Er, yes…. How did you know?"

"Padfoot you've suggested that same bloody idea approximately once a term without fail. I was actually starting to worry you'd forgotten and the world was about to end."

Sirius lapses into a disgruntled silence and tries to lounge nonchalantly in one of the chairs. After a while he grunts, "got a better plan?"

"Not really." I begin to smile. "That's why Snape's hair is fuchsia more often than its Black." We both collapse into fits of un-house-like giggles as Severus himself sweeps past and glares disapprovingly across at us. I recover long enough to ask: "What's your obsession with pink anyway?"

"Well… it clashes with the tie."

I raise my eyebrows. "Mmm."

"Prat."

"Charmed." The laughter begins again. "Seriously though…we need a new evil plot. People will begin to talk."

Padfoot ignores the possibility for the Sirius/Serious joke to be played out once more and his eyebrows narrow. "Okay. Give me a moment then."

I flash him a grin; a real grin this time. "Wonderful. Your plans are always so much better after the hair dying one is out of the way."

"Bugger off James."

I ruffle his hair which I know he hates because I'm the only Marauder who pulls of charmingly dishevelled and wander over to where Peter is beating Moony at wizard's chess.

"Where did you leave Sirius?" Remus asks eyes on the game.

"Thinking up a plan that doesn't involve Snape, Snape's hair or dying charms." I scan the board. "You're losing again."

Remus grimaces. "Thanks for noticing. Care to help?"

"Wouldn't that be cheating?"

"Isn't that what we do?"

He grins up at me, with a smile that tells me he knows I've been moping again. I resist the temptation to stick my tongue out at him. Smug git. "Bishop to Knight four."

Peter exclaims in disgust and Moony lets out a whoop of triumph. "Thanks James."

"Don't mention it." I watch the game for a while, biting back a laugh. Even with me helping him Remus is losing hopelessly. He is without doubt the worst player it has ever been my good fortune to exploit. I consider betting on the outcome of the game, but only briefly; today I don't feel like sitting in this easy, friendly circle.

"You're leaving already?"

"Mmm, gotta research for that project we're doing in Defence."

Remus looks up from where Wormtail's Queen is battering his pawn to death and looks at me quizzically. "The one on werewolves?"

Bugger. Had forgotten that. "No, a different one."

"On what?" Pete asks.

 _Oh, I don't know_. "Banshees. Failed the last one, have to do it again, anyway see you later."

I head out of the common room quickly before Remus can try to understand me but once outside I realise I have nowhere to go really.

The library is as always, deafeningly quiet. I slip in, feeling almost as out of place here as I do with my own house.

A boy I vaguely recognise from the Hufflepuff Quidditch squad is stretched out over one of the tables asleep and I wonder whether Madam Pince has noticed. Probably not or he wouldn't still be here. Anton, who sits next to me in Ancient Runes waves slightly but makes no move to invite me over. I scan the rest of the working area. The only other person I know is sitting bent over her book and will not be happy to see me.

I grin and flop down in the chair opposite her anyway. "Good afternoon Evans."

She doesn't look up. "Planning on staying here a long time Potter?"

"I might be. Why?"

"I want to know if it's worth moving."

It's an insult but with so much less venom than usual that I start laughing. This is not the right thing to do. "Honestly Potter when will you grow up?"

"Not yet, Lily. Not yet." She starts at the use of her name. "Anyway why should I? Sixteen is still a child by most people's standards. You for example…I saw you laughing when Sirius put that periodic sticking spell on Snape's cutlery. And you being a prefect of the noble house of Gryffindor no less."

She starts gathering up her books. "Goodbye James." It looks like she's trying to hold back a smile.

"So, it's not Potter any more?" I yell after her but she doesn't turn around.

A hand grasps my shoulder and to my embarrassment I jump visibly.  _So much for my reputation._

Madam Pince glares down at me through thick glasses that make her eyes look smaller and, if possible, angrier than usual. "Young man there will be no shouting in this library," she hisses at a volume perfected by librarians the world over. "I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave if you insist on disrupting those who wish to study."

I imagine a gloomy hour of researching banshees. "It's alright I'm going anyway."

Once outside the library I look around for Lily but she has long since vanished and without the map I stand very little chance of finding her. Gloomily I begin the walk back to the common room, wondering vaguely if Sirius has put the final touches to his brand new plan. Knowing Sirius he probably has… in fact, knowing Sirius he's probably combing the castle trying to find me to tell me about his brand new plan.

I turn a corner sharply away from the common room, and another. It crosses my mind that this is not actually helping me, Padfoot will have the map, he'll know where I am, but this thought is quickly extinguished with a desperate need to get away… where to, I don't know… hell, I don't even know who from but I've got to get somewhere and soon.

I stop; out of breath and realising belatedly I've been running.

The corridor looks vaguely familiar… no wait more than familiar... Merlin's beard I wasn't even on this floor, what the hell am I doing-

A soft voice behind me makes me jump for the second time in the hour. "Good afternoon Mr Potter."


End file.
